Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
The grass was always greener on this side
The warm breeze brushes the tall California Grass and a flock of seagulls gracefully fly by, guided by the sudden change of weather. The last solar eclipse made the seagulls hesitate about starting their migration south at the beginning of fall. They pretty much predicted the absence of food by calling the others in their flock with their screeching chilling calling while challenging the others for territory. Their heads lowering crouched up and down, like yelling at someone-their ‘mewing’ was not as often as before. Maybe the neighbours cat is around, they’re telling the others a threat is around lurking in between the bushes. I noticed in the distance, some other flocks of what I thought were more seagulls, were not.
By Chacha Jaramillo5 years ago in Fiction
Clouds of Smog.
The day started out like any other day, only it wasn't any other day. It was really far from any other day. Sure, the sun rose and the birds chirped but the sky was foggy and gray. You could see bits and pieces of ash drift through the air like rain. I should know, the roof of my house was gone. I could clearly see the not-so-clear sky directly above me as I gazed from my bedroom. Or, what used to be my bedroom...
By Vanessa R. Powell5 years ago in Fiction
Antiquities Keeper
If you wake up early enough in the morning, when the earth is still settled and hasn't yet woken, before those who remain stir the dust, you can see the sun. Well you can't see the sun. No one can. No one has for at least one-seventy years. But in those quiet still minutes you can see this bright glow through the hazy grim layer that fills the sky. And it's beautiful. The sun itself a deep burning orange with a haloed glow around it, where the smog almost looks like gold.
By L. M. Williams5 years ago in Fiction
A Stitch In Time
The dust jacket is light and comes off easily. I tuck it away, shaking fragments of the past on to ever creaking floorboards. The machine is revealed, resolutely white with vivacious red branding and violet-blue stitch patterns positioned underneath a green-eyed light. There are no cobwebs, but I blow anyway as though a firm well intentioned exhalation might release this tangled present from the grasping grey hands of a cloudy yesterday. It doesn't. Whether I bravely open my eyes or keep them naively shut, the past remains, weaving its shadow through today’s warp and weft.
By Racheblue Love5 years ago in Fiction
Ellie's Choice
It was Friday and the last day of school. I was so ready for this year to be over with. Emma was sitting with me on the grass while we waited for Gareth. Today was going to be a good day. We had been dating for a year, and Emma had been hinting heavily about our first anniversary. The fact Gareth had been so cagey made my heart turn over in my chest in excitement. I knew he had something planned.
By J.B. Miller5 years ago in Fiction
Kal’s Locket
The child sits with folded hands in his lap while intelligent blue eyes stare aimlessly at the blank wall opposite him. He’s not moved in the past twelve hours. An extraordinary amount of time for a thirteen year old to stay still. A single tear rolls down his porcelain like cheek as I open the steel door to his room.
By Marcus Alan Perkins5 years ago in Fiction
Textual Relations
“Hello, Michael.” That’s how it started, a text greeting from an unknown number on a late damp autumn night. He had been about to shut down his laptop. Helen had gone upstairs to bed, as usual, around an hour ago. She would read for a while then fall asleep with her book. He’d join her later, untangle her fingers from the pages and place the book face down on her bedside cabinet. He’d slide into bed beside her and the next thing would be the 6 am alarm when it all started over again.
By Alex Markham5 years ago in Fiction
A Mentally Balanced Society
Georgia looked down at her silver heart-shaped locket. In it was a picture of her mother. She had dark hair and wore red and purple. A color combination that had been forbidden for as long as Georgia could remember. She hid her locket and turned her attention to her closet. There was not much in it. She was a design student so this month she was scheduled to wear blue and white. In her closet was one special item. She was graduating this week. Her special colors were yellow and tan. The outfit had been chosen for her. It had arrived the other day. Her new job had been preselected as well. Her new job would be in this department. She would assign the colors for the ease and betterment of her fellow citizens. Her society's main goal was to look after the mental well-being of its citizens. They eliminated all self -determination and free choice. They had no jails, no crime, no hate speech, and no mental hospitals. People did not have the ability or need to make a bad decision.
By Antoinette L Brey5 years ago in Fiction
The bubble
The bubble “Mother, why do we have to stay in this giant bubble? Look out there! Look at the birds flying! What do they sound like? Yesterday you told me those four legged animals are deer, they are so pretty! The trees are so huge, the grass so tall, why are they swaying and dancing?” Pointing beyond the glass bubble, wiping it from the condensation of my breath.
By Leslie Strom5 years ago in Fiction
